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Laura Butterfoot
This story starts at my daughter, Squid. She was playing in the yard one day when she came in and said "daddy, lookit what I got" I said "what" and she held up a doll. The doll looked like a wrinkly old man with ratty, receding hair, and was wearing an ugly brown dress that was ripped along the side. It looked like garbage. "ew." I said. "who gave you that." "a scary guy with a beard!" said squid and I banned her from playing in the yard. She started to have a tantrum, so I said "why don't we go to the store and get a real doll" she threw an even worse tantrum and said "NO! I love him and I'm naming him Laura Butterfoot." I didn't argue and from then on Laura Butterfoot became a part of the family. Squid's the type of girl to get obsessed with things, so Laura ate dinner at the table with us every night, slept with Squid in her bed, and had his own seat in the car. I thought Laura was gross, but I didn't mind too much until one day when Squid put Laura on my bedside table while I was sleeping. I told her not to do that, and she just grunted. What an ape of a daughter I have. I was actually mad at her because something happened when I woke up next to the doll, I felt like I wanted to marry it. I was just a single dad and something about waking up next to something, no matter if it was an old man doll, filled me with longing. The next few days went on without anything special, until I went to the park and saw Laura Butterfoot sitting on a bench, for some reason the height of a human. He turned his head to look at me, and I blinked, and he disappeared. "Ahh!" I said, "what?" said squid, the real laura butterfoot held tight in her hand. "nothing" I said, because I again had a feeling of longing, I think it had something to do with the park, because this was a place that couples normally go on a date. A few more weeks passed. Laura kept popping up, in real life and in my mind. I would come out of the shower to find Laura posed sensually on the counter, his eyes greedy and shriveled. I asked Squid repeatedly if she had been putting him places, every time she just shrugged or shook her head. Sometimes, and this is the scary part, Laura would show up while Squid was at school, or at a friend's house, and I was almost positive he had NOT been there a few minutes ago. I began to think that my longing for a woman was invading my life, I went on a dating website and looked for someone nice, but all I saw was Laura's wrinkly chin, Laura's warty nose, Laura's balding scalp. "What's happening!?" I yelled. The next day, I couldn't think anymore, I was driven mad with love. When I could stand it no longer, I sat down and wrote a thirty-page love letter to him, but ripped it up in a frenzied whirl of destruction. I jumped up, picked up my chair, and threw it across the kitchen, where it smashed through the window. LAURA! I bellowed, and ran upstairs. Squid was sitting on her bed, eyes wide and fearful, as I grabbed her old man doll by the hand and sprinted out to the car. I hooked him in, got into the driver's seat, and drove to the airport. Then, with the quarters in my pocket, I got on a plane to Hawaii. It took a lot of convincing for them to provide an extra seat for Laura, but I did it, and we were off. Eight hours later, we landed in Hawaii and I booked us a hotel. Then, at sunset, I took Laura out on the beach, got on one knee, and proposed to him with a paper clip that I had bent into the shape of a ring. He didn't move. Passerby stared as I practically frothed at the mouth, thrusting the paper clip into his flabby cotton face. Ten minutes later, I was rolling around in the sand, sobbing and screaming with misery. Laura still did not move. He had not accepted my ring. I stood up, sobbed out a goodbye, and walked straight into the ocean. I faintly heard shouts and whistles blowing as I submerged myself in the cold water, I kept walking until I was deep enough, and curled up into a ball, my heavy, broken heart weighing me down. With a last, bubbly pledge that my love would never die, my lungs failed and I floated to the surface, dead in the water. Category:BCP Category:Pastas Category:Troll pasta